Wednesday, May 25, 2016
Tuesday, May 24, 2016
The only French prop I could find in the house was this mini Arc De Triomphe (have no idea where it came from), which is quite ironic really because the French lost. Vive le vin!
Sunday, May 22, 2016
Blue Nun is no longer labelled as such, now the producers value their reputation. These days, calling anything a Liebfraumilch is considered a negative when it comes to marketing. (Think cubed-cheddar on cocktail sticks.) The bottle of Blue Nun in the photograph is simply labelled "Authentic White" (as opposed to...?) and is now made from Rivaner (so says the back label), a.k.a. Müller-Thurgau. At only 10% alcohol, this sweet white wine, in its oddly blue-hued hock bottle, actually tasted better than I remembered. The wine had a wonderful nose, truly deep snort-worthy, and although the palate was well balanced it was cloyingly sweet. And what possessed me to purchase a bottle of The Nun after all these years? And let me tell you, this wine was not easy to find, it took some effort.
I was inspired to once again taste Blue Nun because I have just finished reading The Secrets of My Life: Vintner, Prisoner, Soldier, Spy by Peter M. F. Sichel. Herr Sichel is the man credited with making Blue Nun a runaway international wine-brand success story. What an interesting life this man has led; escaping Nazi Germany, schooling in England, spying for the Central Intelligence Agency and creating one of the most recognisable wine brands on the planet. It was a great book, written in an easy conversational tone that almost felt like I was sitting with Peter Sichel in his living room. Sharing a bottle of Blue Nun, perhaps.
Thursday, May 19, 2016
It is fun to live (and farm) in a relatively cool AVA e.g., Coombsville and work (and observe) in another, noticeably warmer AVA e.g., Oakville. And why do I consider this year's earlier bloom, in spite of a cooler-than-normal spring, unusual? Because from my personal experience, CS, Clone 4, in Coombsville is normally a bit of a slowcoach in the flowering department. This year my little mutants apparently want to get an early start. Go little girls and boys!
Sunday, May 15, 2016
I couldn't find out much about this wine as Passion Cellars don't provide much information on their website, but their description of the wine was spot on: "Strawberry aromas give way to subtle hints of vanilla and smoky herbal notes in this soft but complex Grenache." For the most part I would agree with their tasting notes, except I would add that this wine (of very low colour extraction, really not much deeper hued than a rosé of Syrah perhaps), had a slightly medicinal quality that was a little off putting. And was possibly slightly oxidised. And wasn't very complex. The wine fared a little better with food (a homemade sausage and pepperoni pizza), but, ultimately, this wine falls into the category of a one-glass-is-enough tipple.
Thursday, May 12, 2016
It is no secret that Vinomaker loves Viognier, so I thought I'd try to find something a little out of the ordinary for him to drink. The Trump Winery, 2015 Viognier (Monticello AVA) fit the bill perfectly. (Yes, that's correct, I did indeed type T.R.U.M.P.) Obviously, anything to do with the name Trump is very controversial at the moment, but, please, don't shoot the messenger.
Winemaker Jonathon Wheeler (who, according to his bio, has worked in wineries in Sonoma, CA) has crafted a really pretty Viognier from fruit grown on the Trump Winery estate which is located in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Planted to 200 acres of Vitis vinifera varieties, the Trump Winery's vineyard is Virginia's largest vineyard and the largest planting of V. vinifera on the East Coast. (That's huge. Huge.)
A fairly typical Viognier, this wine had oodles of orange blossom, honeysuckle and apricot on the nose, and a strange (but strange in a good way) caramel-apple lollipop richness on the palate. The wine was a tiny bit flabby, but was otherwise well-balanced.
I bought this wine on Amazon as it was slightly less expensive to buy the wine through Amazon than directly from the winery. However, it was still shipped from the winery in Virginia. Vinomaker and I paired this wine with a chicken salad, not Hispanic food (titter, titter).
Sunday, May 08, 2016
Cowbirds got their name from hanging around herds of grazing cattle and taking advantage of the myriad of insects that the cattle would flush from the vegetation. Like cuckoos, cowbirds practice brood parasitism, so they are of dubious character when it comes to their reproductive habits. Still, I love their quirky brown head-held-high strut and all the chitter-chatter they make. Welcome back to Vinoland, cowbirds.
Saturday, May 07, 2016
The event started well as upon arrival I was handed a taste of Chimney Rock's 2013 Sauvignon Gris (Napa Valley AVA). Sauvignon Gris is an unusual grape variety for the Napa Valley. The wine was a fairly pleasant quaff, but had a tad too high alcohol-burn thing on the finish. Viticulturalist Doug Fletcher, apparently a long time employee of Chimney Rock, (I think he even mentioned that he had been the winemaker at some point), was our vineyard tour guide for the event. I say tour, but a quick stroll across 25 yards of tarmac to the first vine in sight, in my mind, does not constitute a tour. The talk started well as Doug seemed like he was going to address such viticultural specifics as soil composition, grape varieties and clones. But he strayed off topic when someone asked him about the use of Roundup in the vineyard (the whole glycophosphate debate). And that was it, in short shrift my group was hustled from the edge of the vineyard back onto the tarmac to make way for the next group. I had a quick look at the tasting room and then departed.
All in all, this year's Afternoon in the Vineyards, and perhaps it was just this particular venue, Chimney Rock, was a bit of a disappointment. Sigh.
Friday, May 06, 2016
There is a lot of good, viticultural stuff going on in the above photograph: not the least of which is the brilliant mechanism that is the unfurling of the calyptra. I love grapevines.
Oh, and happy Sauvignon blanc day!
Thursday, May 05, 2016
Hortus Third offers this definition of a clone: "A plant propagated by asexual or vegetative means, including divisions, buds, cuttings, layers etc...Clone is a horticultural rather than a taxonomic term."
In regards to the grape/wine industry, a clone is a variant of a grape variety that is unique in some detectable way, whether by changes in the way a grapevine expresses a particular gene, or minor mutations in the grape variety. Each clone, in this case let's say a clone of Cabernet sauvignon (CS), will taste like the parent variety, but with slightly varying characteristics, e.g., higher acidity, more concentrated fruit, firmer tannins. Nowadays, it is common practice for growers, and winemakers, to utilise a variety of different clones, much like a cook will select different herbs and spices, to achieve certain flavour profiles in a finished wine.
The fact that I am interested in geeky viticultural goings-on would not come as a surprise to anyone who knows me. But something that surprised me was the scarcity of information available about this particular subject matter. I discovered this (yes, almost two years ago), when I attempted to do some research prior to purchasing some grafted grapevines to fill in the spaces where several vines had died in Vinoland's CS block.
There is a lot of anecdotal information to be had by talking to folks who are interested in viticulture, but a lot of it is useless. Just recently, an acquaintance of Vinomaker mentioned to him that he thought CS clone 169 was a great clone to grow in the Tundra (aka Vinoland, Coombsville AVA). I happen to be familiar with this clone, as Vinomaker used to make wine for a couple we know who used to grow this particular clone. Clone 169 did indeed ripen in a timely fashion in Coombsville. It is a pity we have clone 4 (a veritable retard, in the nicest possible sense of the word) planted here in Vinoland, (and oh, how I wish we didn't). But it is what it is. The little bit of information on clones that is available in written form comes from research conducted by John Caldwell (see previous post) and Anthony Bell of Bell Wine Cellars. (Hmmm, perhaps someone should seriously consider compiling a reference work.) I eventually settled on clone 337 for my replants.
As for the wine in the photograph, this CS claiming to be made solely from clone 337 was an unremarkable, quotidian quaff. To be fair, I did not do a comparison tasting of this wine with another made from a different clone. However, I have comparison-tasted in the past; I have tasted clone 4 (Vinoland), clone 7 (St. Helena Sots) and clone 169 (North Avenue Negociants) side by side and they were quite distinct from one another.
Interesting stuff, I need to know more.
Saturday, April 30, 2016
The tasting, hosted by proprietor John Caldwell, was extensive and seemed to include a majority of Caldwell Vineyard's wines (they make 21 different wines, about 5,000 cases in total). But, in reality, I probably only tasted ten wines in total. Still, that's a lot of wines to taste. A standout for me was the 2013 Caldwell 'Silver' Proprietary Red - a palate pleasing blend of 75% Cabernet Sauvginon and 25% Cabernet Franc (all from Caldwell's Coombsville estate), delicious blackcurrant, plum and violets (with Vinogirl-pleasing acidity). And a lovely, get-the-beef-wellington-on-my-plate, 2013 Merlot which was all subtle red plum, red cherry yumminess. Then, there was a bourbon, phew, long story. All in all, a great tasting.
Friday, April 29, 2016
Traditional mead, simply honey, water and yeast, can be dry, sweet, still or sparkling. With the addition of fruits, grains, herbs and spices mead is known by some other names. For example; Braggot is made from honey and malt; Cyser is made from honey and apple juice; Pyment is made from honey and grapes and, germane to this post, Metheglin is made from honey, herbs and spices. (Shakespeare refers to metheglin, along with malmsey, in Love's Labour's Lost.)
All the meads I have ever tried have been quite wine-like and have been packaged in wine-like bottles. Nectar Creek, a mead produced in Corvallis, Oregon, is packaged in beer-like bottles which had me wondering if the contents would be more beer-like. (Now, where did I put my pewter tankard?) Chicory and Sting were two very different meads - the first a traditional mead, the second a metheglin, I suppose. They drank more wine-like, but with beer-like alcohol (ABVs of 5% and 6.2% respectively). The Chicory was extremely honey-ish on the nose, with a little floral component mixed in, and felt like it had a bit more mouthfeel than the other. The decidedly-ginger-ale-reminiscent Sting had subtle, earthy undertones of honey. Both meads were ever so slightly effervescent, and both were lacking in acid (for my taste). I couldn't drink a lot of this stuff. But, (not unlike the fad for the so-called, in the USA, hard ciders), mead is very trendy right now, so I reckon a fair amount of folks are drinking it - a creed of mead.
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
The shiny, navy blue Tesla of this morning was brand spanking new and, as yet, had no license plate. In lieu of a license plate there was a card that read 'ZERO Emissions'. Well, obviously there are zero emissions, it's an electric car. However, the power station responsible for generating the electricity to power my friend, the tortoise-like Tesla, is most definitely not pumping out zero emissions into the atmosphere: the generation of electricity is not without consequences. That fact, unfortunately, just happens to be an inconvenient detail that most electric car owners seem to ignore. Generally, I have discovered that just ignoring, and denying, reality doesn't make it simply disappear. My musings reminded me of a story that I read in the Napa Valley Register last month.
A short road that dead-ends at the Napa River, and is soon to be developed with a 489 unit apartment village, is to be renamed. The current name, Oil Company Road, has been deemed unsuitable for the new residential complex and so the road is to be renamed Sousa Lane West (the continuation of a small road on the other side of Soscol Avenue that heads east to the Silverado Trail). And why is someone bothering to rename Oil Company Road? A spokesman, when asked this question, said, "We chose to change it because of the confusion of 'oil company' with 'oil cans'; it carried a derogatory feeling to it." What? How fragile are the psyches of the folks who will eventually inhabit these new apartments? Apparently, history has to be forgotten, or worse rewritten, to save these apartment dwellers from the perceived horrors that are fossil fuels.
In the 1890s, this part of Napa - along the river, but on the opposite bank to downtown - was a dockyard area mainly occupied by gasoline wholesalers who, when the demand for petroleum grew, supplied the demand. The flourishing industries that relied on the gasoline wholesalers were tanneries, mills, cream of tartar factories (there were a lot of grapes here, even then) and, of course, the power plants that supplied the electricity to these industries. The same electricity that powers the myriad of Tesla motor cars that are tooting around the Napa Valley today.
I am glad that I got a photograph of the Oil Company Road sign before it is removed, and before the powers that be rewrite Napa history to the absolute detriment of future generations of Napa Valley residents.
Saturday, April 23, 2016
Of course, I happen to be of the opinion that England doesn't have many faults.
Oh, and a happy 400th birthday to William Shakespeare!
Happy St. George's Day to my family, friends, and anyone who loves England as much as I do.
[Addendum: 23rd April 2016 was the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare's death.]
Friday, April 22, 2016
I did venture out into the vineyard, a little while ago, to see how the vines had fared in the gusting winds. Syrah shoots are so succulent this time of year that they are susceptible to snapping and breaking in breezy weather: especially when I haven't had time to stuff all the shoots up and under the trellis wires. I am happy to report that everything looks splendid in my immediate, humble patch of the Blue Planet.
I have managed to stay dry, which is more than can be said for the ladybird I found ambling about on a Cabernet Sauvignon vine, apparently unconcerned with being slightly water-logged. Rather it than me.